As mentioned at the end of last year, I've finally reached the age where I'm starting to appreciate Mr. Zimmerman more. Lately I've been listening to Blood On The Tracks a lot, and yeah, I know it's the cliched choice, the Dylan album that all the critics love, but I'm still enjoying the hell out of it. A lot more than I enjoyed Blonde On Blonde when I bought a copy in my mid-20s and forced myself to listen to it for a week to try and see what the fuss was about.
I've even managed to get Sam into Tangled Up In Blue. Again, the obvious choice from the album, but it was the moment I realised Dylan had a sense of humour... and he knew how to use it subtly too... that really turned the corner for me.
She was working in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer
I just kept looking at the sight of her face
In the spotlight so clear
And later on when the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said, "Tell me, don't I know your name?"
I muttered something underneath my breath
She studied the lines on my face
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe
What I didn't expect in the middle of all this was to also find myself suddenly drawn to Bob's son too.
Jakub Dylan's band The Wallflowers recently got back together and released their first album in almost a decade, and it's pretty damned good. It must be tough being Bob Dylan's son and trying to make people listen to your music without them constantly comparing you to your dad, but The Wallflowers are a very different proposition... although there's some nice subtle humour in the lyrics here too.
This is my last week off with Sam (after a few days back in purgatory last week) before the hard slog through till November (when I finally start my new job). So a few more days out have been planned... and a few more middle-aged King Cnut mumbles have been expressed.
Last week I spoke (at length) about how They are slowly trying to phase out real money in favour of digital / card spending, something that C agreed with greatly (pointing us all towards this article which shows that it isn't just middle-aged Cnuts fearing the end of money). Well, here's the latest chapter in that tale of woe... car parks.
A number of city centre car parks I've encnutered over the past few weeks have refused to let me pay for my parking with coins. The machines are taped up with bin bags, forcing us instead to use their parking apps. Occasional signs describe this as a covid measure, while others say nothing, which implies this is the future.
Like a true King Cnut, I refuse to use parking apps. I've tried and the hoops to jump through are just too many. I want to put a few coins in a slot, grab my ticket for the dashboard, and go. If I have to put my registration number into the machine (to stop me sharing a ticket with another driver... remember how nice it was in the good old days when someone offered you their unused parking ticket?), that's about as far as I'll go. But I'm not logging into one of the three dozen possible parking apps and giving them my life story (not to mention bank details) just to leave my car for a couple of hours on a piece of scraggy wasteland. I'll drive on and find another car park, thanks.
But I know my days of doing that are numbered. The faceless oligarchs who own our car parks don't want to pay attendants any more, and they certainly don't want the hassle of sending someone round to empty the ticket machine, count up all the coins, and take them to the bank... not when they can get us to shoot our digital cash straight into their veins. And I'll tell you who I feel sorry for the most. This guy...
Here's ten songs about parking and parking lots. Because song writers prefer to use the Americanism (I couldn't find any car park songs)... probably because most of these guys are Americans (apart from the ones who sing about valet parking - Brits with too much money, obviously!).
How Can I Be Sure you got all the answers right yesterday? You might just be a Daydreamer. Still, I Woke Up In Love This Morning, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt...
9. Little children should learn to replace the Y with IE.
Babys should be spelled with an ie.
In case you're saying "Whoooooo!?", this is the band that John 'Missing You' Waite started out in. Although they were a British band, they only had hits in the US and Australia.
Here's another one for the "Well, I never knew that" folder... the lead singer of Londonbeat was Jimmy Helms, who had a 70s hit with Gonna Make You An Offer You Can't Refuse and also sang jingles for the radio company I used to work for.
7. Sweet smelling weasels.
Jasmine is a sweet smelling flower, minks are slightly less fragrant weasels.
